Stigmatized
by tarry rash wanton
Summary: It doesn't matter whethere something is real. What matters is whether it's true. 1x2. chap 2 up
1. Genesis

**Stigmatized** by Shace

For a different flavor. Inspired by the book Innocence by Jane Mendelsohn and The Lake by Daniel Villasenor.

Part 1: Genesis

The early morning sky ends in ribbons of blue and white, blurring into the horizon like fine wisps of gilded cotton. The trees quaver, their spindly arms genuflecting against the wind's gentle soft, soft touch. 

In this morning when the sun awakens for a brand new day, the details suffusing the earth begin to alter: There is light staining the stones and rocks now, as the road in which a lone black car moves smoothly in the empty expanse, once obscured moments before in a semi obsidian haze that was the slumber of dawn. And there is coherence, as if awaken itself from its sleep by the whisper of the earth. 

And in the simplicity of the moment wherein people cannot see or perhaps choose not to see the transition of the waning dusk to the hopeful dawn of a new day, the season changes, sweeping the smell of salt and sea and sweat away in a flurry of propitious wet and cold.

But he sees this, with palms pressed against the smoothness of the glass barring him from ever touching the world from beyond this naïve window as if in a trance of deep longing and curiosity. 

The trees roll in a thick distortion of dark green and brown when he passes them by, the engine making a soft whirr and the key chains hanging from the ignition key rattling, keeping him awake—not that he'd choose to sleep after all. His eyes settle on the never ending rows of green, and bark and leaves outside.

On the inside it is the opposite of everything: it smells of cigarette and wine, and he wonders just how it would feel like to weave his hands into the winds', smell the hope in the air instead of the suffocation of his mother's momentary lapse of reason, the boudoir of her lament for her lost child. 

The chauffer has warned him several times during the trip that he shouldn't open the windows, and he did as ordered without asking why. He's too enthralled with what he's seeing that he shut up for once. It's six fifteen now. He checks the faint numbers blinking on the clock. 

He wonders what'll it be like there—the new school his dear mother's brought him to. He knows it's nothing new.  It's just like every other school more or less: Nameless faces, faceless names. It was all the same. But the difference was that this one's so much farther away than the last two. Maybe this means his mother doesn't want to see him any longer. Maybe this means the woman hates him now, loves her new stepdaughter.

Maybe different means another thing. But different—he's known the world ever since he was a boy. 

It's a few more minutes before he arrives in the front of the school. This one has high black gates that open up into a large asphalt walkway leading to the stone steps of the school entrance. He doesn't bother to know what it's called anymore. He doesn't bother, really because they'll be sure to send him out anyway. 

He peers outside: boys in pleated pants and neckties each one trying hard not to stare back at the car. They all look the same.

The chauffer is nice. He's called Howard, and he's the only one that he ever trusted since childhood. Howard says to him while looking back, "Come on Duo. You can go now." His name is Duo. Duo Maxwell. It's like a dead language spoken in some way it feels so strange just hearing it. 

Duo sighs. His lips quirk upward, forcing out a smile that barely lights up the violet and blue hues of his eyes. "You think they'll be nice and not beat me up?"

"You're afraid of getting beaten up?" Puzzlement is etched in Howard's face. "I always pegged you for a tough guy, kid."

Duo shrugs. "Well I just don't want to fight anymore," Resignation? "It might get me kicked out again."

Before Howard thinks a reply to that, the car door opens, closes and then out comes Duo. The strap of his bag hangs on his left shoulder, and as he smugly tries to walk across the school grounds he can't help but notice the looks he's receiving from fellow students.

Their eyes are hollow, like some endless black faux of the human eyes. Duo throws them a fake grin. Others are nice to acknowledge him as he walks by. 

He hears their voices in his ears, a ringing echo etched in his mind forever. It's like every other school, he surmises as he walks along the corridor littered with piqued students.  

He is halfway to the safe harbor of his classroom when somebody pulls him from behind and pushes him against the door. The boy is tall—maybe a senior. Duo sees his vision sparkle as his head connects with the wall. "You new here?"

He nods. "Welcome then." And then before Duo is able to retaliate by possibly kicking the boy pressed against him, he finds himself thrown into the janitor's closet. 

The door closes, locks as Duo blinks in the darkness sprawled on the floor, nostrils flaring at the strong scent of disinfectant. Duo waits in the darkness, lying there. There is calm repose, silence like he's known it before. 

His voice is muffled when he calls for help. "Bunch of sickos," he murmurs as he stands up to his feet and grapples for the doorknob. He pounds the door with a rolled fist. "Hey let me out! Somebody let me out!"

He yells for a few seconds. And he tries every possible method to get attention from a potential rescuer but to no avail. He leans his weight against the door, the knob pressing painfully into his side. 

"Somebody! Let me out of here!"

He hears voices behind the door, indistinct, something like, "I wish you people would just get a life."

The door opens, and Duo falls as he's pressed against the door into something firm on the floor. It's a boy with piercing blue eyes and messy brown hair, chest heaving with every breath. "Tradition," he says flawlessly as Duo stares down at him as if in a trance. "Welcome to the school."


	2. Ketchup

Stigmatized 

Part 2: Ketchup

"Ketchup," The boy says staring at Duo's unchartered, greasy fries. "Makes everything better."

Duo turns to look at his fries as the boy sits next to him, laying his tray next to his. "My name's Heero Yuy." 

Duo picks up the packet of ketchup and smears some onto a fry. 

"Duo Maxwell." He says placidly, chewing. "So what's about the fiasco this morning?"

Heero smiles thinly. He has nice blue eyes. "Tradition."

"Tradition?" Duo asks, vaguely interested. Ketchup really does make everything better. "What do you mean?"

"It's tradition in this school to lock the new guy in the Janitor's Closet."

"Some tradition," Duo mumbles under his breath, but Heero chuckles amusedly, hearing it. 

"I know."

Duo fishes something in his pocket, takes it out and places it on the table. He chews another fry dipped in ketchup. Heero stares at the bottle on the table and then back at him.

Duo doesn't mind Heero staring at him, really. He's gotten used to people doing it around him all the time. The sound of the cafeteria has suddenly lessened in volume as Duo rattles the white bottle and pours out the contents onto his palm. Lexapro.

It's a pill, which he swallows down, with a river of mineral water.  

"You still owe me a thank you,"

Duo looks at Heero. 

Heero has nice eyes. 

When Duo gets home, his mother doesn't bother to ask him how school was. She just watches as Duo's stepsister Relena sits playing the piano. Her flaxen hair cascades down her shoulders gracefully as she presses the keys with adept precision. She smirks as he stops and watches them both in the living room. 

Duo envies her as he marches up the staircase into his room to do his homework.

When he's finished with Lit a knock begins at the door. It's his father. "How was school?" he asks, letting himself in and Duo grins and tells him how he was locked into the Janitor's closet first thing in the morning. He also speaks of Heero—Heero who has nice blue eyes. 

His father smiles and looks out the window, peering down into the darkness. On the horizon, the skies meet against the backdrop of the moon. "I wish mom were more like you." Duo sulks as he watches his father. "She seems to like Relena better now." His father looks at him with gray eyes. "You both have violet eyes," Is all he says.

There's another knock at his door, and Duo rolls his eyes as the maid enters. "Master Duo," Her voice is fragile like a china doll. "Your mother calls on you to come down for dinner."

Duo sighs. "I was talking to my father," He tells her exasperatedly.

The maid stutters. "Your father…?" It's as if she can't believe it herself.

Dinner is stale. Peas, mashed potatoes and chicken. Duo swallows the peas down as he eyes his family: Relena sits like a princess beside her father as Duo's mother talks about her meeting to her new husband. 

Duo's father is absent in the table, and Duo understands this because he knows how his father wants to keep to himself.

"Pass the ketchup please?" Relena's eyebrow rises. Duo's mother and Relena's father stop talking. Duo gives them an innocent smile as he gestures with the bottle of ketchup on Relena's left. 

"Ketchup," He explains as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Makes everything better."

Relena makes a sound low in her throat, her lips pursed as she grabs the offending bottle and hands it to Duo. "Thank you," Duo says.

After dinner Duo picks up the white bottle by the sink. He turns to the mirror, catching sight of his long chestnut hair hanging loosely behind his shoulders to the back of his knees. He watches himself in the mirror as he moves, the change of color in his eyes, the shape of his face as if it's something he's unable to decipher.

A sigh of resignation escapes his lips as he picks up the bottle, shakes out a pill and swallows it down without water.  

"Duo?" 

It's his only friend Hilde by the door of the bathroom. "What is it?"

"I'm glad that you finally have another friend besides me." Hilde grins cheekily and crosses her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "So is does this Heero guy look cute?"

Before Duo can answer, Relena makes her way into the bathroom in a flurry of pink robes. She gives Duo a look and snorts derisively. "Been talking to yourself again Duo?" 

"No I—" When Duo turns to the bathroom door Hilde is nowhere to be seen.

***

"Duo wait."

Duo turns around at that voice and stops dead in his tracks. The sky shines like a distant star burning against a sea of blue overhead. 

Heero runs up to Duo, panting. He places both hands on his knees to steady his breathing and it isn't before long when he says to Duo, "Do you mind if I talk to you for a minute?"

Duo stares at him as if he's speaking some foreign language. Duo lets out a sardonic smile. "I mind that you asked."

Heero rolls his eyes and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

"I want to get to know you."

Duo stops the second time around; and it's getting old now—this constant playing with his emotions, and not keeping Heero at bay with his current condition. 

"You can't."

"I think it should be my choice and not yours," 

"Then why did you ask me in the first place?"

"I was just giving you an early warning."

Duo glares at Heero as he finds himself closer than he'd been a few seconds ago. 

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Heero moves implausibly closer, and Duo can feel the heat of his body—the breath that Heero draws which pulls Duo close, and the heartbeat pressed against his own, and the flutter of Heero's eyelash as he takes the back of Duo's hand and kisses the underside of it. 

Heero looks up at Duo's shocked expression, his thumb caressing the violet eyed boy's left cheek firmly. "Don't kiss me," Duo whispers desperately.

"I won't."

Heero, and his lies.

Tbc.

Thanks for the reviews.


End file.
